Whisper Point Ranch
by Rhiana Rae
Summary: When The Rock is injured in a match gone wrong, he is forced to take a vacation, and ends up at Whisper Point Ranch. During his stay he'll find healing, not just for his body...but his heart.


Summary: When The Rock is injured in a match gone wrong, he is forced to take a vacation, and ends up at the Whisper Point Ranch. During his stay he finds healing, not just for his body.but his heart?  
  
  
  
Whisper Point Ranch  
  
  
  
Rhiana Larsen  
  
  
  
"Yes, I believe two weeks will be just fine. Mm-hmm. The rate is six hundred a week for the separate cabin. Yes, it comes fully furnished, with a stocked wet bar, complete entertainment center, and a California King- sized bed, four-poster oak. I'm certain he'll find it suitable. Yes, of course, I understand. I'll let the hands know. Mm-hmm. Alright, we'll be expecting him, then. Yes, thank you. Have a good day."  
  
Rachel hung up the phone feeling light as a kite. "Woohoo!" she yelled, hurrying into her kitchen and gazing out over her land.  
  
She couldn't believe it. Dwayne Johnson, better known as The Rock, had been injured in a nasty match with Kurt Angle, and had also suffered a collapse from near-fatal exhaustion. His shoulder and arm had several torn muscles, and his body was overworked. He needed complete rest and relaxation in a quiet place where he could 'get away from it all.'  
  
No problem. Her ranch was, for all intents and purposes, out in the middle of nowhere. Big as it was she had only twelve people under her employment during the winter and fall. There weren't usually many guests during that time, if any, and so the extra staff was an unnecessary expense.  
  
As of now there was Sven, their chef, gorgeous and blonde-haired, with blue eyes. But their relationship was purely platonic, for the dashing Swede was very much married. His wife was also a good friend of Rachel's, Jacey, and she was often over to visit on her days off.  
  
Along with him were Nicholas and Christian Parker, two brothers who worked year-round as her stable hands; Rick Atkins and Jack Durham, two of the best horse trainers around; Davis, Neal, Gresham, and Hunter Erickson were also all brothers, and had worked for the former owners of the ranch. They were all three years apart, Hunter being the youngest at 32, then Gresham at 35, Neal at 38, and Davis at 41. They were like family to her now, and they lived in the guest bunk year-round. Josie Garrett was her weekday housekeeper, and Emma Leary on weekends. Her foreman, Tanner Jensen, was whom she turned to now.  
  
He was seated at the table, coffee cup in hand, studying a picture on the wall. "We have a guest arriving," Rachel said, leaning against the counter. "He'll be here in one week. His name is Dwayne Johnson, but the hands might know of him as The Rock." Tanner's eyebrows shot up, and Rachel sighed. "He's been injured, and they've booked him here to rest up. No one is to stare at him, ask him for autographs, or anything of the like. While he's here, he's simply another guest. I trust you'll let the boys know?" she asked, draining her glass.  
  
"No problem. I'll have a talk with 'em tonight. 'Sides, all of us will be busy, with winter comin' on. I'll take care of it." He stood up and brought his cup to the sink, rinsed it out, and placed it on the counter.  
  
"Tanner, this is very important to me. The money won't hurt either. It's vital that we make a good impression. This could be a wonderful opportunity for this place...."  
  
He patted her shoulder and smiled. "Don't worry, Rach. I'll take care of it."  
  
"Thank you," she said, smiling. When he was gone, she allowed herself a moment of childlike giddiness, whooping and doing a little happy dance. She had always been an admirer of The Rock. In truth, she thought he was probably a candidate for "Best Looking Man On The Planet," but that wasn't common knowledge.  
  
At 28 years old, Rachel Jackson was a very accomplished, well- respected rancher, horsewoman, and businesswoman. In the two years since she'd bought the place, nearly bankrupt by its previously owners, and barely known to the horse industry, she'd managed to start and keep a healthy reputation as a horse dealer throughout the Northwest. Aside from that, the guests that booked up throughout the summer and spring were faithful, recommending her to all their friends. They made more than enough money to thrive, and Rachel was content.  
  
And now The Rock, Dwayne Johnson, would be staying at her home. Two weeks had already been paid, but the man she had spoken with had warned her that might change.  
  
Until then, there was plenty of work to keep her busy. All she had to do was keep herself from short circuiting with all the anticipation.  
  
One week couldn't come soon enough.  
  
  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
  
  
Saturday dawned cool and clear. At seven a.m. Rachel was dressed, showered, and was beginning to swipe a bit of make-up across her freshly washed face. Telling herself the lipstick was for moisture and the swipe of mascara was for...well she couldn't think of a reason for that but 'just because,' she headed down to her truck.  
  
Rachel felt especially good that day. Her face was clear, her hair was behaving, and she'd managed to zip herself into her way-too-tight Wranglers without a safety pin. Things were going well. Besides her make- up, she'd done little more than pull her long chestnut hair back in a low ponytail, and thrown on a maroon tank top before leaving the house.  
  
Mr. Johnson, as she'd taken to calling him, would be arriving at just before nine, and it was an hour-long drive to the airport in Bend. Just this morning she'd received a call requesting her to come pick him up. It seemed he didn't want to draw attention by coming in his car.  
  
The Rock? Her? Alone? In a truck for an entire hour?  
  
Rock the hell on.  
  
  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
  
  
Dwayne stood outside the airport, where the owner of the ranch was supposed to pick him up. Two huge duffels lay at his feet, and his arm was in a sling. And to be honest, pain was radiating from the torn muscles in his shoulder. His lip was cut, and there was a huge bruise on his cheek. In short, he looked like hell.  
  
He hoped this place was all Don had told him it would be. Quiet, secluded, and peacefully relaxing. It was getting so hard for him to relax anymore with his job, and that made it his number one goal.  
  
He shook his head. There he went, goal setting again. Screw that. He was going to go with it, and be happy as possible for the next two weeks.  
  
Goal setting be damned.  
  
  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
  
  
Rachel finally spotted him, alone surprisingly for the hour. She could tell he was wearing a sling, though he'd tried to cover it up with his jacket. And, he was even better looking in person. Oh, hell. Try not to be stupid, she told herself. Be polite but professional. It's always worked in the past.  
  
As she got out of her truck, her knees trembled.  
  
Good Lord...  
  
  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
  
  
Dwayne saw the young woman approaching him and fought not to be irritated. He'd walked clear to an empty area to get away from people wanting autographs, but no...of course not.  
  
She walked with a subtle sway of her hips, which were overly full, luscious, like an earth goddess. Her jeans may as well have been painted on, and she wore dusty brown boots with a loose maroon tank top. Brown hair spilled from a no-nonsense ponytail to her waist, but sassy black sunglasses covered her eyes. Damn.  
  
Before he could say anything to her she stopped before him and pulled off the sunglasses. Brown eyes. Big, beautiful, fawn-like brown eyes, to match her delicate fawn face.  
  
Beautiful.  
  
She extended her hand, and smiled.  
  
"Rachel Jackson, owner of Whisper Point Ranch. You must be Mr. Johnson."  
  
"Call me Dwayne," he replied.  
  
Rachel smiled. "My truck is just this way. Let me help you with those," she said, bending down to pick up one of the large bags.  
  
"Careful, those are heavy..." he began, then trailed off as he watched her heave the weight, almost easily. He saw the flex of her bicep as she picked it up and studied her. This woman was obviously used to hard work.  
  
He followed her over to her truck, a huge, and rather new, Ford Quad Cab, painted a pleasant deep green.  
  
"Would you like to get something to eat?" she asked, fastening her seat belt as he did the same. She hadn't eaten that morning, and her stomach was growling.  
  
He shook his head. "Thanks, but I already ate."  
  
Damn. Oh well, she could wait another hour until they got home. Along with that, she also sensed that he was in quite a bit of pain. There were lines around his mouth, and he'd already leaned back and closed his eyes.  
  
Silence was good, too, she supposed. And so Rachel held her tongue and remained as such until long after they'd left the airport.  
  
Dwayne was extremely grateful for her silence. Thank God she wasn't one of those damned chatty females. His shoulder felt like hell and he wanted nothing more than a soft bed to sleep on.  
  
He heard all at once a low rumble, and realized it was the owner's...Rachel's...stomach. Damn, he should have realized how late it was. She probably hadn't eaten anything in her haste to be on time.  
  
Feeling like a heel, he glanced at her.  
  
"You know, a little breakfast does sound pretty good."  
  
Oh, thank you, God, she thought.  
  
"Alright," she replied with a smile. "If you don't feel like going to a restaurant, I know a great drive-thru."  
  
Dwayne nodded. "Please, please, drive-thru." Rachel laughed, and he raised an eyebrow at her.  
  
"Drive-thru it is."  
  
  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
  
  
The drive to the ranch had been wonderful, Rachel thought, turning her last turn onto the long winding driveway to the place she called home.  
  
Dwayne had been polite, soft- and gentle-spoken, and truly quite charming. She was also proud of herself for maintaining an air of professionalism, even though she still thought he was the most gorgeous thing walking God's green earth.  
  
Finally, the ranch sign came into view. "Well, here we are. Home sweet home."  
  
Dwayne looked around at the vastness of beautiful land around him: trees, shrubbery, and lush green fields that stretched seemingly for miles.  
  
White fencing lined the drive and the perimeter, and plain wire divided the rest into paddocks.  
  
They passed a barn, a small building that looked like staff quarters, another huge modern-looking barn, and lastly they came to the ranch house itself.  
  
It was really quite lovely. Two stories, and very, very large, it was every bit the sprawling ranch house Don had told him it was. Creamy stucco walls in a Spanish hacienda style gave it a very modern, sophisticated look. Fourteen inch sandy peach colored tiles lined the walk, while plants filled the air with their wild, flowery scent.  
  
"This is beautiful," he breathed, still appreciating this woman's taste for design and class.  
  
"Thank you. Mi casa es su casa."  
  
Dwayne smiled again. Thank you, Don, he thought happily. He'd finally found a place where he could relax...  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
  
  
"Well, this is just the main house," Rachel explained, hefting one of his heavy bags from the back of the truck. "You rented the private cabin, which is down by the lake. I'll drive you down there if you like, and show you around. On second thought, I'm just going to leave this here," she said, dropping the bag back in as gently as possible. He could have breakable stuff in there, and she had no intention of having to pay for his things. They were probably expensive as hell anyways.  
  
Dwayne studied her as she stood there, suddenly awkward, and wondered what was going through her mind. During the entire drive she hadn't mentioned a single thing about him being a famous wrestler, asked for his autograph, or anything. Perhaps she didn't follow stuff like that, and didn't really know who he was. She did live out in the middle of nowhere on this big ranch. Probably they didn't even get cable.  
  
Oh well. She was polite, and funny, and he found that she didn't irritate him like most women did. She wasn't what most people would call gorgeous, but she wasn't bad to look at. Her beauty was classic, simple. Most men wouldn't appreciate that in his world. It was all glitz and glamour and flexed hot bodies. This woman was soft and feminine, all soft curves and flesh. Her hips were round and her bottom and thighs were full, not skinny and sinewy like the women he was used to.  
  
Her face was easily her most attractive feature, and those eyes could probably bring a man to his knees. Her lips were full and pouty, looking as though she'd just been kissed though no one had been around, save himself. There was a toughness to her, though, just beneath the surface. Her manner was straightforward and open, and he had no doubts that people found it a pleasure to work with her.  
  
"That would be fine. I'm actually a little tired, so..."  
  
"Yes, of course. Well, I'll show you around the main house later. Let's get you settled first." Rachel smiled and climbed back into the truck, waited while he did the same. "It's only a short drive down to the cabin, but there's a truck there with the keys, and a full tank of gas. We figured you wouldn't mind having your own transportation, in case you needed to get out and back into civilization for awhile..." She trailed off, unsure what else to say.  
  
The truck had been Tanner's idea. He'd figured Mr. Johnson- Dwayne- would want some feeling of freedom, and it wasn't any skin off their backs to spare a vehicle. It was just an old ranch truck, but something was better than nothing.  
  
They reached the empty cabin a few minutes later, following a dirt road about a mile, just far enough that privacy wasn't a problem, and close enough to get there quickly in case there was a problem.  
  
The cabin itself was beautiful, and looked over a small man-made lake. The lake itself was years older than the cabin, and wildlife had already made it their home. Birds fluttered about it, and various animals came to drink from it: deer, raccoons, antelope, and many others.  
  
Rachel had loved the cabin since it had been finished last year, but her place was in the main house. The guests, thankfully, shared her feelings, and it was rare that someone would ask for a room in the house instead of the cabin. It came with a stocked bar, food, fireplace, entertainment center with six hundred channels, and a hot tub. You couldn't ask for much more than that.  
  
She put the truck in park directly out front, where there was a large covered deck, complete with expertly crafted cedar patio furniture. Two chaise lounges, a table, and two chairs were nestled in one corner, while a barbecue sat waiting to be used on the other side.  
  
In the windows were deep hunter green valances with matching shades, and the exterior was a natural wood. Dwayne realized that the whole thing would be his exclusively, and almost sighed. At last.  
  
"This is great," he said, smiling at her.  
  
Rachel shook her head. "It's probably not as nice as you're used to, but I'm proud of it. Let's take a look at the inside." She unlocked the door and handed him the key. "This is the only key, and it's in your hands. No one else will have access to the place without your permission. Okay?"  
  
Dwayne nodded, approving of her planning. "Wonderful."  
  
"Shall we?"  
  
They entered the cabin, and immediately he caught the scent of fresh cedar, and realized there was already a fire blazing in the large stone carved fireplace. Freshly cut flowers sat in a clear crystal vase on the kitchen table, surrounded by four elegant chairs. The kitchen was open into the living room, and everything was very spacious. There was a short hallway with three doors, and then a door at the very end.  
  
"This is the main area, and these two doors," she said, opening one after the other and swinging them open, "are the bedrooms. One comes with the four-poster California King bed, and the other is simply a Queen sized bed. The sheets are freshly bought, and they've never been slept in. However, my housekeeper Emma swears by washing them first to make them feel more comfortable. This room is the bathroom, and we made it as big as possible for comfort. The tub has jets, and there are all sorts of bath goodies in that cabinet, like bubbles, although I'm not sure you'll want to use them." She smiled and shook her head. "And through here is the back patio. It looks out over the lake as well, and there's a path that leads down to it. If you'd like to fish, the gear is in the shed against the wall. We stock the lake with trout each spring, so it should be fairly good game by now."  
  
She turned back to him, standing on the back porch, and watched him take everything in. He looked satisfied. That, at least, was a good sign. "Well, I guess there's nothing to do but haul your bags in, and then I'll get out of your hair so you can get some rest." Smiling again with those eyes, she whirled around and headed out the door. No sooner had he dragged himself to the door, exhausted, than she appeared shouldering both his bags. "You didn't look quite thrilled, so I got them both. I hope you don't mind..." Dammit, she thought. He might not like people touching his things. Instantly she straightened, realizing she'd been getting too personal. "Well, if everything's all right with you, I'll leave you to your business."  
  
Dwayne shook his head. Managing a small semblance of a smile, he replied. "Everything looks great. Thanks. I'll be fine."  
  
"Well, alright then. If you need anything the house numbers are by the phone. Various others are there too for convenience. Bye," she called, as she trotted back to her truck. He raised his hand as she put it in gear and rumbled down the road. He watched until she was nearly out of sight, then shook his head and turned back to the inside.  
  
The place really was gorgeous. Rachel seemed to have an eye for decorating, for everything was aesthetically pleasing as well as placed in useful areas. But as of now, all he wanted was a bed with a comfortable pillow.  
  
He entered the room with the bigger bed and whistled. Just like home, he thought, as he slid up onto the comforter. It was thick and soft, obviously feather down. The cover was a deep red, and as he slipped beneath it he realized the sheets were satin, and smooth against his skin. Everything was too comfortable, and within seconds he was fast asleep.  
  
  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
  
  
Rachel busied herself the moment she got back to the house. Tanner was out working with Nicholas and Christian, inquiring about the food supply and all those things. Jack and Rick were training a new stallion she'd purchased from a local ranch, and she planned to use him for stud eventually. Until now, he'd been trained under halter, and in the next few days they would get a saddle on him. Rachel herself did the actual initial ride, and though the hands advised against it, she hadn't been injured, so she saw no harm in it. It was a way to establish a pecking order, for she knew if the horse got the upper hand it would be nearly impossible to get it back.  
  
It was nearly one o'clock, she realized, and hurried to her room. After throwing on an oversized blue sweatshirt, she pulled her hair down and quickly braided it into pigtails. Satisfied, she continued the never-ending process of hurrying and made it to the barn in record time.  
  
Shadow was waiting for her, impatiently tossing his head up and down as she slipped inside his stall. He snorted and nuzzled her shoulder, obviously ready for his ride. "Okay, boy, let's go."  
  
Snapping a lead onto his halter she led him out into the aisle, brushed him quickly, tacked him up, slipped a bridle over his halter and released the latter, and made her way back outside. Shadow was still snorting, prancing and pawing the ground. He was a wild one with an unbreakable spirit, but the two had made an instant connection. He'd saved her life, and that bond hadn't broken, not in six years. He was older now than he'd been then, but there was no aging sign in him. At sixteen hands high, he was a force to be reckoned with, his Thoroughbred blood giving him vigor and a speed that sent heads turning when she rode by.  
  
Feeling freed finally of her responsibilities, at least for a while, she leapt up into the saddle. Nicholas and Christian emerged from the stable and whooped at her, knowing what she was up to. Tanner came out behind them shortly after and shook his head. He knew, too.  
  
As she kneed the horse into a dead run in the barnyard, sandy-haired Christian shook his head, too.  
  
"She's going jumping."  
  
"I know," Tanner said. "Let's hope she doesn't get herself killed. Come on, both of you, there's still work to be done."  
  
  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
  
  
Rachel laughed, feeling the wind in her face. Shadow had not slowed his stride, and now he lengthened it as they reached open field. His body stretched low and lithe, and he seemed to fly over the ground. Before she knew it they came to their first fence. Beneath her, his muscles tensed as he collected himself, and she leaned forward as they sailed effortlessly over the top.  
  
They hit the ground running, and she laughed. That fence was easily four feet high, and Shadow took it like a cavaletti bar. Today was a good day.  
  
A butterfly fluttered in the wind in front of them, seeming to float along, and Shadow lifted a foot up to strike at it, all the while never breaking stride. She gave him the signal for a flying change, and he did it without pause, changing his lead foot and giving her the feeling that she truly was flying for a moment. It was graceful, and beautiful, and she couldn't help but feel the life flowing through her veins as she rode on.  
  
Soon they were near the cabin, but she paid no heed to it. There was a herd of cattle that severely needed herding, and she intended to do it.  
  
  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
  
  
Dwayne opened one eye as he heard the gleeful whoop. Looking at the clock next to the bed he realized he'd been asleep for nearly two hours.  
  
Sitting up, he stretched, and looked out the window. Rachel was there, atop a great gray beast of a horse, laughing and smiling as it skidded to a stop, turned, turned again, and lunged. It was obvious she was herding the cattle and cutting out some, but he didn't know why. Ranching wasn't his thing.  
  
Yet it was her that captivated him. Her hair was in two long braids down her front, and they flew around as her body moved with an effortless ease. It was as though she were at one with the horse, joined at the waist. One single being. She could probably read his thoughts too, he thought, and sighed. He slipped out of the bed, and realized he was still wearing his white button-up shirt and black pants. Definitely not ranch-wear.  
  
Moving into the living area where his bags still sat, he rummaged through them before finding a pair of faded jeans and a plain white t-shirt. He had figured it would be better to bring nondescript clothing, leaving his trademark shirts at home. This wasn't a trip for attention, and he didn't intend to bring on any more than necessary.  
  
It took him long moments to change his clothing, with his one arm all but immobilized, but finally he managed the task, and went about pulling on a pair of lace-up black boots, with steel reinforced toes. They were comfortable and old, perfect for kicking around.  
  
He moved out onto the porch, and sat down in one of the chairs. Out here, he could see Rachel perfectly as she continued chasing the cows around. It was interesting that she seemed to get so much fun out of it, but then again, he'd never ridden a horse. Who knew what it felt like, to be so in tune with a creature other than a human being?  
  
At length he stood, and leaned against one of the beams. She spotted him, then, as though his movement had attracted her eye. She smiled and waved, and he smiled back, raised his hand so she'd see it.  
  
Rachel smiled and sat deep in the saddle. Should she go over there? No, probably not. He would want to be left alone, right? Oh, hell. She had to. There was just nothing else she could do.  
  
It took her only a half a minute to reach his cabin, and she reined in Shadow on the other side of his deck, keeping a safe distance from him. It was possible he didn't like horses, or was allergic, or any manner of thing. Safer to remain at a distance. Now, boy, isn't that the truth, she thought to herself. Talk about a loaded statement.  
  
"Get some sleep?" she asked cheerfully, smiling under the hot sun.  
  
"Yes, yes, I did. I feel much better, thank you." He rubbed the back of his neck with a deeply tanned hand, and Rachel averted her eyes from the almost intimate sight. She needed to get out more, she decided.  
  
"Wonderful. Sorry if I woke you, but this guy can't be restrained. When he wants to go, that's it. He has to go. How do you feel about looking around the place now?" she asked, adjusting the reins in her hands.  
  
"Sounds great to me. Want me to drive up in the truck?" he asked, then raised an eyebrow when she shook her head.  
  
"Why don't you ride up with me?" Rachel asked, her eyes teasing him. Good Lord, what in the hell was she doing?  
  
"Well...It's been a long time since I've ridden, but...I trust you. Sure." He mentally kicked himself. Just what in the hell was he doing?  
  
But Rachel just scooted forward and pulled her foot out of the stirrup. "Just stick your foot in there and heave yourself up. There you go." He settled behind her comfortably, surprising enough. The horse's rump was wide, and offered a much more stable seat.  
  
Shadow tossed his head and snorted. "Oh, good Lord. Behave," she said, laughing. "You might want to hold on. I'll keep him to a walk, but balance can be a bit hard to keep sometimes."  
  
Dwayne smiled and, not really knowing where else to put them, settled his hands on her hips. He felt her stiffen and almost pulled them away, but thought better of it, deciding that he liked the feel of her under his hands. Gently he molded his hands around their fullness and held on, smiling all the way.  
  
In front of him, Rachel thought she was going to have a cardiac fit. Her heart was flipping in her chest and her breathing was fighting to quicken. She had to get control of herself, and now. The fact that Dwayne Johnson was all but caressing her hips had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that she felt faint and tingly inside.  
  
Nothing whatsoever.  
  
Then why, when he scooted closer to her backside, did her legs tremble and her pulse quicken?  
  
Oh well. There was no use in denying it. He affected her just as she'd known he would.  
  
Dammit.  
  
  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
  
  
She reined in at the barn and slid from the saddle, holding out her hand for Dwayne to do the same. It had taken about thirty minutes to ride clear back to the house from his cabin, but she certainly hadn't minded. Throughout the entire ride, Dwayne's hands had rested nowhere but on her hips, making her all too aware of their voluminous size.  
  
She had battled with her extra twenty pounds for four years. It ended in an uneasy truce. The pounds didn't multiply so she didn't complain...too much. Still, at times she wished she could be skinny and beautiful like the women in magazines and on tv. But then again, who didn't want to be that beautiful?  
  
Oh well. At least she could give J. Lo's ass a run for its money. That made her smile, and Dwayne looked at her suspiciously, raising that damned eyebrow again. She laughed and told him never mind, and he just shook his head, followed along behind her into the barn.  
  
"Shadow is my personal mount, so I'm always the one to saddle and unsaddle him," Rachel explained, making conversation for no reason in particular. The silence had begun to grow loud, she supposed. "He was a gift to me two years ago from a friend," she continued, and Dwayne wondered if it had been a male friend. Oh, who the hell cared? It was none of his business, and he ought to keep his nose out of it and his mind off it. This was a vacation away from stress and complication, and he seriously considered the fact that Rachel was definitely a complication.  
  
"Anyways, he saved my life once, so I owe the big guy one." She stopped brushing the horse's flank, and her eyes took on a far away look.  
  
"What happened?" he asked, picking up another brush from the bucket on the wall, and stroking along the horse's thick strong neck. Across from him, Rachel sighed, then shrugged. "It was a long time ago," she said quietly, and he knew she preferred not to talk about it.  
  
She finished cleaning up the large stallion and only when he was locked safely in his stall did she dust her hands off on her jeans and head for the exit. "Come on, I'll show you around the main house. We'll see if you're up to it later on. By the way, was the ride alright? Your arm, I mean," she said, looking pointedly at the fact that he'd slipped the sling off for the ride. Sheepishly, he slipped it out of his pocket and went about putting it back to rights. "It's fine for now," he said shortly, and Rachel grinned. It seemed Mr. Johnson was a bit embarrassed at being caught disobeying his doctor's orders.  
  
"Let's head up to the house then."  
  
They walked up along the drive for about five minutes, until the large main house came into view. The cool stucco of the walls was instantly calming to him, giving the house the appearance of a modern place, but with the welcoming hospitality of elder days.  
  
"Do you live here?" he asked, catching sight of a large swimming pool that was nestled around the west corner of the building.  
  
"Yes. I live downstairs, though, so I don't wake up the guests early in the mornings. Ranch life seems so romantic to city people, until they realize you get up at five a.m. and do stinky, dirty chores all day. Then, at night, you get to sit down and do more dirty work, in the form of papers and reports, taxes, supply and demand, market ratings, beef prices. Doesn't sound too glamorous, does it." Her response was not a question, but a statement, and Dwayne simply nodded in agreement.  
  
This woman was completely fascinating to him. She spoke like a seasoned businesswoman, yet he couldn't place her above the age of twenty-nine. Even that seemed a bit of a stretch, for her face was as youthful and fresh as a teenager's.  
  
Add to that her innocent but mysterious exterior, lush hips included, and she was probably the most amazing thing ever to grace the planet. And those eyes... At that moment he forgot himself, and rushed to cover for it.  
  
"No, uh, no, it doesn't. It sounds tough," he said, being completely honest.  
  
"Tough! You're one to talk. You get beat up for a living. Oh, sorry." She covered her mouth, worried she had offended him. "I shouldn't have said that."  
  
"Why?" he asked, perplexed at her sudden embarrassment. Did she think he'd get angry over something like that? Now THAT almost made him laugh.  
  
"You're confusing me with the guy I play on TV. Sure, The Rock can be a total asshole, pardon my language, but he IS just a character. He's not me at all. Well," he added with a smile. "Maybe partly me. But listen," he said, moving to stand in front of her. "You don't have to walk on eggshells around me. I won't bite." He winked, and then continued walking.  
  
Rachel's personal space suddenly felt very empty without his large presence invading it. She hurried to catch up with him, and laughed breathlessly. "Well, in that case, don't you ever get tired of being punched, and kicked, and smacked with metal chairs? They ARE real metal chairs, right?"  
  
Dwayne laughed. "Yes, the chairs are real. But no, I don't really ever just want to quit. Sure, everyone needs a break now and then, like now.but I can't see my life without the wrestling. It's not just a job. It's sort of a release. You know, when I'm in the ring, I can be someone completely different. Someone other than who I really am... Things are a lot less complicated in the ring."  
  
Rachel listened, realizing that he was talking more to himself than to her.  
  
"When you go in the ring, you've got the matches that you've been slotted, and you know how long you've got to do your thing. You do it, and you be someone the crowd likes, or hates, and then you go home. But what then," he said in a low voice. "There's not really anything else. Just sleep, and then you get to go pretend for a while longer."  
  
He stopped talking and gazed out over the landscape. "God, it's beautiful here."  
  
Rachel placed her hand on his arm, tentatively. "You don't have to pretend here, Dwayne. Not with me." When his face jerked toward her she averted her eyes, not wanting him to see the moisture that had gathered there while he'd spoken those sad words.  
  
They walked the rest of the way to the house in silence that was slightly strained.  
  
Thankfully, there was much to talk about inside.  
  
"Well, this is the entryway, of course," she said, indicating the spacious area. He nodded in approval. Pebble-textured paint in a calming blue gray coated the walls, accented by the deep blue plush carpet that padded their footsteps. A large staircase in two sections led up to the second floor, where he assumed the guest rooms were. Right before him was a wide hallway, and he could see a portion of what looked like a kitchen, and a set of double doors.  
  
"The double doors there lead to the formal dining room," Rachel explained. "When we have many guests or business meetings, we eat in there. This," she said, stepping into the open kitchen, "is where I usually eat and cook."  
  
Dwayne was impressed. The kitchen was large, and held enough appliances to prepare very large meals, but it was still cozy and personal. He liked what she'd done with the walls in here, leaving them a cream hue with just a bare hint of orange glow. They complemented the large peach-colored stone tiles on the floor, and with the few paintings it made a perfect ambiance for a comfortable and relaxing kitchen.  
  
As he turned around, he noticed another doorway, just opposite of what looked like a bathroom in the spacious hallway.  
  
"That's my room," she explained, and pushed the door to the bathroom open. "This one is public. I have my own. Are you tired at all?" she asked, concerned that he would overdo it and pass out or something. When he shook his head she continued up the stairs and onto a large walkway that was open onto the rest of the house save for the beautiful wooden railing. Four doors opened off of it, and she showed him into each one.  
  
The rooms were beautifully done, in themes of butter yellow, peach, cream, and nature colors for the male guests. Each room had a private bathroom, although it was very small, holding only a shower, sink, and toilet. Still, he knew she must have added them as an extra convenience for her guests. It must have cost a fortune to renovate the old home, for it looked almost brand new. He guessed the foundation must still be the same, and the basic structure, but it would likely not be a stretch to say that she'd pretty much built a new home.  
  
"So," she said, smiling, as they stood before the large plate-glass window that overlooked nearly all of her property. The sun was already close to setting, and she had not realized how late it must have been getting. "What do you think?"  
  
"It's beautiful," he said, but he wasn't speaking entirely of the house.  
  
Standing there as she was, in her dirty blue sweatshirt and braids, with random pieces of hair having come loose and sticking out, the sun cast a golden glow across her already tanned features, giving her the appearance of a goddess, perhaps an Egyptian one, like the ones he'd read about. He could picture her in the ancient garb of the Egyptians, her full build rather than the stick thin fashion models of the day accenting her curves and lush appearance. Her imperfections, ironically, were what made her seem so...well, perfect.  
  
"Well, that's just about all of it," she said happily, turning around to face him. She froze, stopped in her tracks by the look in his eyes. He'd been looking at her when she turned around, and there had flared something in those chocolate depths that she couldn't identify......something sweet and tender.  
  
She mentally kicked herself. Yeah, right. Like, with all the beautiful and athletically perfect women he was in contact with every day he'd have any interest in the likes of her. Get a grip, she scolded herself, and don't fantasize about stupid things like that. Especially not with him. He's a heartbreaker; make no mistake, Rachel James. He'd eat you like half a sandwich and walk away without a backward glance.  
  
"Not all of it," he said, and she looked at him strangely. "The pool?" he inquired, raising his eyebrow at her.  
  
"Oh! Well, that's embarrassing," she said with a laugh. "You've been here half a day and already you know the place better than I do. Come on, it's this way."  
  
She led the way through the kitchen and to a door nestled in the back. "This is the way most of the guests use, but you can also get around by going through the gate at the side of the house.  
  
Outside, the sun was a bit lower in the sky, and the rays glinted off the surface of the water, rippling lazily in the fading daylight. He wanted to climb in right then, but he knew better than to try and swim with his arm. Already it had begun to ache from climbing the stairs. It would be way too destructive.  
  
"Can it be used anytime?" he asked, thinking there was nothing he'd like more than a midnight soak in the cool water. It wasn't hot, but warm enough despite the setting sun that the water wouldn't be too cold.  
  
"Of course. The gates don't lock, and the pool is heated. And, as you probably noticed, it's pretty secluded. Since we have no guests here, you'll pretty much have it to yourself," she said, grinning.  
  
"Why don't you use it?" he asked, putting his hands in his pockets.  
  
Rachel laughed uncomfortably. "Oh, I have, once or twice. But only when there's no one home." She felt her cheeks color. Now why the Hell did she say that! Dwayne glanced sideways at her. "And that would be because...?"  
  
"Oh, please!" she said, laughing. "You're not getting me in a bathing suit in front of those ranch hands, or anyone else that might be lurking around. No way. I know better."  
  
Dwayne studied her silently. She was embarrassed. It was apparent from the sudden blush in her cheeks, and her fidgeting behavior. Although, he'd be damned if he knew why she wouldn't wear a bathing suit for fear of being seen. He'd probably die of cardiac arrest if she were to even pass him by in one.  
  
"You know better? What does that mean?"  
  
Rachel sighed. "Let's just say, I'm not swimsuit Issue material, and leave it at that, shall we?" She turned away from him, intent on circling the pool and exiting through the side gate. But he stepped in front of her.  
  
"You don't think you're beautiful?" he asked softly, and Rachel refused to meet his eyes. Those eyes that stood gazing down at her with an emotion that she wouldn't see. He was almost thankful, but changed his mind, urging her to look at him with his forefinger and thumb on her chin. "Don't you think you're beautiful?" he repeated, watching in disbelief as she shook her head and stepped away.  
  
"No," she said, then smiled. "I mean, I don't think I need to wear a paper bag over my head. But I'm not attractive, per se, no." She turned away and stared at the water. It hadn't been so long ago that those dagger-sharp words had been hurled at her...  
  
*** 'Amazon! Too much curve for the any man's tastes. You'll never please any man, Rachel, so don't think that leaving me will do you any good...***  
  
Rachel squeezed her eyes shut, fighting past the tears that threatened to spill over. That had been two years ago, when Blake had walked out on her. What a fool she'd been, then. He'd asked for her heart and she'd given it, and then just kept on giving, whatever he asked for. She purposely ignored the late phone calls and the fact that he just always seemed to be busy on weekends. Sure, he'd been drunk when he'd said those awful things, but they'd found their mark. Still, they hurt her. Lying in bed at night she'd remember that horrible day and cry herself to sleep, wondering when she'd allowed a man that much control.  
  
But from that day she'd made herself a promise, and that had been to go into everything with her eyes open, and not let her guard down until that person had won her trust. And winning her trust was not an easy thing to do.  
  
Then why, when Dwayne came up behind her and placed his hands on her upper arms, did she not tense and step away? Why didn't she simply say 'nothing' when he asked her what was wrong? Why couldn't she walk away...?  
  
A tear slipped down her cheek, to drip silently onto the paving at her feet. Dwayne saw the light sparkle through it as it fell, and somehow realized she was thinking of someone or some time, when she'd been hurt. Deeply. He wished he could ease her pain, but he didn't know how, or where to start.  
  
"I'm sorry," he said instead. "It was none of my business."  
  
Rachel sniffed and blinked rapidly, clearing the excess moisture. "It was nothing. Just forget it." She managed a bright smile. "Well, that's pretty much the tour. Would you like something to eat?" she asked, searching for a safe subject. Blake's cruel leaving was not a safe subject, not in the least.  
  
"No, thanks. I'll fix something later back at the cabin," he said, unable to stifle a sudden yawn. Rachel's eyes widened. "You must be exhausted. Come on, I'll give you a ride back down," she said, rounding the side of the house and heading once more for the ranch truck.  
  
They rode the mile-long distance in companionable silence; Dwayne thinking about what to say to make her feel better, and Rachel trying desperately to maintain her professional attitude. But it seemed so impossible with this man so near her. He was so much different than she'd thought he'd be. He wasn't cocky, or arrogant, or rough spoken. She had expected someone with a tough attitude, someone who thought himself perhaps on a higher plane than someone like her, a regular everyday kind of girl.  
  
But he was none of those things. Since the second she'd met him he'd been nothing but kind, polite, soft spoken, and friendly. There was compassion in his dark eyes and she would bet her ranch that he had a very large, giving heart. He'd probably make some woman very happy someday, if he wasn't already.  
  
But then again, she thought, if he was then why wasn't he with her recuperating from his injuries?  
  
Satisfied with her logic, and with her mind now completely having forgotten those cruel words, if only temporarily, she smiled.  
  
They pulled up to the cabin seconds later, and Dwayne got out of the truck. He leaned in before closing the door, and looked her directly in the eyes.  
  
"You really are beautiful, you know," he said, before shutting the door and hurrying up onto the deck and into the cabin.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Rachel drove all the way back to the house shell-shocked. He hadn't actually.he did.but he couldn't have meant it...or could he? Why did he have to go and say that to her? All her professionalism went out the window at that very moment, and she'd felt a wall crack around her heart.  
  
No. It would not happen again. Being hurt so badly by Blake was one thing, but this was a dream she was in; a living dream that, for some reason, had come true. She didn't think she could stand to see another dream crushed under the cruel and careless boot of another man.  
  
But Dwayne wasn't cruel or careless, her other half argued back. He was kind and compassionate. He'd never hurt her intentionally.  
  
Or would he? It didn't matter. She wasn't going to give it a chance either way.  
  
The house was silent when she entered, as everyone left at five anyway. Even Sven had been gone earlier when she'd invited Dwayne through. It seemed no matter where they went, her hired help seemed intent on making themselves invisible. Not even Christian or Nicholas had popped up when she'd been in the barn, which she would have to commend them for, later.  
  
Safely inside her room, she relaxed measurably. She was wound tight as a spring, and if she didn't relax soon, she'd snap. So, she undressed, tossing her filthy clothes in a hamper, and slipped on a long satin nightgown. The gray-blue material with its scattered golden sparkles lightly molded to her body, the patches of silvery tan melding beautifully with the light navy blue flowered pattern. A slit on each side traveled to her mid-thigh, and the v-neckline showed off her tanned collarbone and slim graceful neck.  
  
When she wore this gown she felt every inch a feminine, pampered woman. The feel of the satin against her skin was sensual and slinky, brushing against her with a cool touch as she moved. Over the gown she slipped on a matching robe, leaving it to hang open, for the rooms were comfortably warm.  
  
She picked up the latest book she'd been reading and padded into the living area, which branched off the main entrance. Somehow she'd neglected to show Dwayne around this part of the house. Likely, she had probably been too flustered over their turn of conversation out by the pool to remember. God, she could be a nitwit at times, she thought, turning to her last place in the book.  
  
There was a large overstuffed chair next to the front window where she liked to read. A large standing lamp looked over the spot with just the right amount of light. The beautiful fireplace remained unlit, for she didn't feel the need to bother with it just then.  
  
And at some point during the turning of countless pages, she fell asleep. 


End file.
